Staying Awake
by blamethegnomes
Summary: When a high school history teacher takes her sophomore class to the Smithsonian, she doesn't expect to meet Captain America. So, naturally, she wasn't going to expect anything that followed. Post-Avengers
1. Chapter 1

Beth really needed to stop being late. She barrelled out of her building at 7am, rucksack weighing her down with assignments, and headed for the metro station. It was early enough that she wasn't battling people on the sidewalk so she almost ran – almost – and bolted down the dingy stairs to get to her platform. The entire eight minute ride, she bounced her leg feverishly earning a few glares from men in suits who were clearly heading into the city. She could almost hear the sigh of relief when she got off at Tenleytown. When she was back at street level, she ran into a relatively empty deli for a black coffee and a pastry before powerwalking the rest of the way to the school. Today she had to be as close to on time as possible, and she was… ten minutes late when she looked at the clock in the History department's office.

"Welcome to the land of the working," came a voice from the corner. Sam put his head round his computer monitor to look at Beth. "You're looking out of breath."

"I overslept," Beth muttered as she slipped her rucksack off. It landed on the floor with a loud _thud_ but she couldn't find the ability to care as she took a sip of her coffee and fell into her chair. "Are you covering my freshman World History class this morning?"

"Unfortunately."

"Their assignments are in my bag. Can you give them back to the kids?"

"I'd rather be going to the Monument, but sure." He disappeared behind his monitor again and began typing away.

Beth fired up her computer, eating the croissant whilst she was waiting, and then searched for the documents she was going to need for the trip. Register, emergency contacts, itinerary…

Thirty schoolkids in a small coach was not who Beth wanted to spend her morning with. Her colleague was sitting next to her and had called dibs on the window seat before pulling out a book. If you're going to get the window seat, at least look out the damned window. And it was definitely not a long enough journey to read Dan Brown's latest apparent thriller.

Beth addressed the students with the usual field trip information – don't get lost, she and Mr Hiller would be in the café, be ready to leave at 1pm on the dot – before settling down in her seat. They'd only left the school campus about ten minutes ago, but Beth seemed to be doing all the work. She'd planned the trip, handed in the forms, chased Mr Hiller down to sign the correct parts, and had done everything this morning. Really, she shouldn't have been surprised. Mr Hiller was one of those stereotypical old history teachers who just stuck a video on when he couldn't be bothered anymore and left school early on a Friday to go to a bar. If he could get away with not doing something, he wouldn't lift a pasty finger.

The arrival at the museum couldn't have come sooner and the students all scurried off to different exhibits with their worksheets whilst Beth and Mr Hiller headed to the Stars and Stripes Café. Beth needed more coffee if she was going to put up with her colleague for the next four hours. A big black coffee to perk her up so she could get some lessons plans done.

That's where she was at midday: sitting in the café with high school essays, a plate with crumbs from a sandwich sitting on the table next to her. Mr Hiller, thankfully, hadn't disturbed her and the noise around her was like a gentle buzzing. Until someone coughing loudly disrupted her concentration. And she did not expect what she saw.

There, standing in front of her, was six-foot-something of all American hero muscle, a chiselled jaw, and a winning smile. All pointed at her. His jacket was tight around the biceps and his cap was pulled down low. Not that Beth could see his eyes, anyway. The shades took care of that.

"Sorry?" she asked. It was the only word she could think of.

"I was just saying that I've never seen someone with concentration like yours. Every time I've walked past the café, you've had your head down writing."

"It's not writing," Beth clarified. "Marking essays is not nearly as interesting as writing." She mentally facepalmed herself. The most American American she had ever seen was standing in front of her and she was arguing semantics.

"Essays? Are you a teacher?"

"High school history."

"I love history. Mind if I sit?"

"Sure." What did she have to lose?


	2. Chapter 2

"So why did you choose the Stars and Stripes Café and not the Jazz on the next floor?"

"I was feeling patriotic," Beth responded dryly. "Could we return to you apparently looking through the window at me like a creeper every time you passed?"

He had the decency to blush. "You just kind of… caught my eye. It's probably not what I should've opened with."

"You're probably new to picking up girls if you open with something along the lines of 'I was watching you work from a distance when you were unaware'."

"I don't usually approach people, especially when they look so engrossed in their work."

"I was just wondering why this kid thought Hitler invaded Poland because he _really_ liked the picturesque landscape. I mean, it's a beautiful country, don't get me wrong, but surely he had other reasons." Steve murmured his agreement as he sipped his Coke. "And I've just realised after about twenty minutes that I know nothing about the man I invited to sit with me."

"You know my name," Steve pointed out. Beth fixed him with the stare she reserved to terrify students with. She pursed her lips slightly, narrowed her eyes, and thought about the episodes of _Game of Thrones_ her sister kept deleting off the TiVo whenever she came over to get that look of real anger and resentment. Steve paused before lowering his head. "What do you want to know?" Worked like a charm every time.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm… in security, I guess." Beth raised an eyebrow. "I'm definitely in security."

"You're in security in DC. Basically what you're saying is that you're a suit."

"In a manner of speaking."

"Okay, where do you live? Obviously not your exact address. I'm not the creeper here."

"I've got a small apartment in Kalorama Heights."

Beth whistled. "That's pretty much downtown DC. Must be expensive."

"The company pays for it."

Beth looked past him and into the Smithsonian's foyer where a bunch of schoolkids were beginning to congregate. She checked her watch: 12.45. With a sigh, she returned her gaze to Steve. "I'm sorry but we're going to need to wrap this up. I've got fifteen minutes to round up thirty sophomores and then head to the Lincoln Memorial." She winced when she realised how rude she sounded. "I'm sorry, I mean-"

"Oh, no! It's fine! Just… just out of curiosity, could I get your number? I'm not trying to pick you up or anything, you just seem like someone I could get along with and friends are in short supply for me right now."

Beth was flustered. Steve, the wall of muscle, wanted a friend. She felt like saying no would be akin to drowning a kitten so she grabbed her pen and scrawled it on the back of Steve's hand before hurriedly packing away her marking. "No dick pics. Or any picture of you naked. Clear?"

Steve nodded resolutely. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Beth. Have fun at the Lincoln Memorial."

She would try, but first she had to locate Mr Hiller. Really, she'd rather just leave him at the museum.

As she hurried to leave, she could've sworn Steve quietly saying "It's not her." She must've misheard. But the doubt was pushed to the back of her mind when she spotted two of her students arguing.

They were all gathered outside the Lincoln Memorial, Beth standing on the steps with the students on the ground looking up at her. Mr Hiller was behind them, paying less attention than any student.

"Someone tell me something about Abraham Lincoln," Beth said, trying to keep the pleading out of her tone as she prayed that at least a _few_ of them knew something about this president.

"He was a president!" one of the students called out.

"Oh, Tyler, you're so funny," Beth commented dryly. "Anyone else want to try?"

"He was the _sixteenth_ president," another student, Freda, said, throwing some shade at Tyler as she did so. "From March 1861 to April 1865."

"Well, at least one of you pays attention in class," Beth muttered under her breath. "To complete your worksheet you'll need to go inside and all the way around the outside of the memorial. Anyone caught misbehaving will find themselves spending the rest of the afternoon with Mr Hiller and me and I don't think anyone wants that. You have forty five minutes until we meet back here. Go."

The students split, some going inside and some starting outside, looking up at the walls. Beth sat down on the step, revelling in the quiet. Her mind couldn't help but wander back to Steve. He'd seemed so familiar but she just couldn't place it.

"I'm going to get some food," Mr Hiller announced. He walked off to goodness knows where. Apparently he wasn't aware that he'd been in a café for the last few hours. Beth just rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone. She was still waiting for a message from her sister who was supposed to be making her monthly trip from Harrisonburg, Virginia for work. Staying with Beth for a few nights was much cheaper than getting a hotel and much easier than driving at least two hours each way for four or five days. Nothing. Not even a Facebook notification. Just as she pressed the lock button, it vibrated and lit up in her hand. One new message from an unknown number.

 _Hi, it's Steve. It was great meeting you. Want to grab a coffee some time? Platonically, of course. Let me know either way. Steve._

Beth didn't mind most plans involving coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

Like any city Starbucks, it was busy. According to Steve, this particular one on Connecticut Avenue NW was the best in the city – and there were a lot to choose from – so they'd agreed to meet late Friday afternoon. Beth had packed up after her last class and hopped onto the busy Metro Red Line and continued down four stops to Dupont Circle. Somehow, for the first time in her life, she was there slightly early so she stood in line to order her coffee. By the time it had been made and handed to her in the signature plain white mug, Steve still hadn't arrived. She quickly found a table in the back corner of the coffee shop and pulled her phone from her pocket. It was still on silent from being in school so she hadn't heard the text alert.

 _Running a few minutes behind but I'll be with you soon!_

Beth couldn't help but think of the irony of the situation. She sent back a quick _Don't worry! I'm sitting right at the back_ before her sister rang.

"Hello, you've reached Satan's personal assistant," she answered in a chipper voice. "How may I aid your visit to Hell?"

"It's not Hell until I see your face," came the dry response.

"I'd say 'burn', but we're not in middle school anymore. You graduated Yale and work for some bigshot organisation, surely you can do better than that, Carolyn."

"Speaking of the bigshot organisation, can I stay at yours Monday evening through Thursday morning, oh loveliest little sister in the world?"

"It's not like I have a social life. Speaking of, how are the husband and the sprog?"

"Matt's doing great. Apparently he's a shoo-in for a promotion. Jamie misses his Auntie Beth who tells him all about deadly war machines like trebuchets. Can you please not teach my six-year-old kid about bloodthirsty death things?"

"You have to ruin my fun," Beth whined as she looked around to see if Steve had arrived yet. Still nothing. "He loves it though. Definitely encourage him to study history."

"Yeah, because there's no bias there at all." There was a _thump_ and a series of colourful curse words. "Oh, you are joking. Sorry, Beth, but I've gotta go. I'll see you Monday and we can have ice cream and watch whatever crap you've got stored on your TiVo."

Beth bit back the comment about Carolyn deleting 'crap' from her TiVo after hearing the edge in her voice. "See you Monday. Be good."

"Good's dull," Carolyn answered quietly before hanging up. Beth was used to it; a lot of their calls ended like that. On the plus side, Steve had appeared in his hat and shades. A barista called his name and he took the drink before heading over to Beth's table.

"Fancy seeing you here," Beth teased.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Work got-"

"It's a casual after-work friends-get-coffee meet up. You showed up and gave due warning that you'd be late," Beth dismissed. "Besides, I'm pretty sure when we agreed on a time, we said _around_ five thirty."

Steve smiled gratefully as he took a sip of his drink. Then Beth braced herself as he moved to take his shades of. They'd texted extensively since Tuesday's field trip and Steve's identity had been revealed. Naturally, Beth had told him to go screw himself for trying to get laid by posing as Captain America, but a video call had quickly sorted that one out. Beth had obviously promised not to tell anyone, or to draw attention to them on their friend-date. She was surprised that he trusted on her on that so readily.

"So, you know where I live. What about you?"

"Bethesda." Beth winced prematurely as she spoke the name. The usual reaction to this was usually along the lines of 'oh, so you're rich' said in a disapproving tone. Of course she wasn't rich. She lived alone and taught high school history.

"I nearly got an apartment up there, but my agency decided I needed to be closer to work."

"Really?" Steve looked at her inquisitively. "Sorry, but everyone usually wonders how the hell I can afford to live that close to Washington on my salary."

"You seem like you really want to tell me."

"No, it's just… I'm so used to telling people. It's like a Pavlovian response at this point."

Apartments in her block on St Elmo Avenue were usually rented at about $2,000 a month for a one bed one bath. Through some miracle, some unbelievable happenstance, Beth's mother had found a private landlord in that block and haggled him down to $950. Some emotional blackmail about a broken engagement… her mother wasn't very forthcoming with the details.

"You know what I really want to know?" Steve asked. "Why you live in Bethesda but don't teach there. Isn't Wilson High in Tenleytown? You could be teaching much closer to home."

"I don't like to proverbially shit where I eat. If I teach the kids in Bethesda, I don't them to then see me hungover in Starbucks on a Saturday morning, or for them to find out where I live because one of the kids lives in my building or on my street. Although… how do you know I teach at Wilson? I don't recall ever telling you that."

"Your teacher's planner had the school logo on it." So the guy was observant. Or maybe that was just obvious.

"There is something I've been wondering, actually. Why did you come up to me?"

"Are you suspicious of my motives?"

"Hell yes, I am. Most of the men who come up to me in the street are trying to sell me something."

"I'm not trying to sell you anything. You just… I don't know, you intrigued me."

Beth snorted. She wasn't the intriguing type. Interesting things didn't happen to 28 year-old high school history teachers.

Unless you count going on a friendly coffee date with Captain freaking America.


	4. Chapter 4

Beth would be lying if she said she didn't find Steve incredibly attractive. Muscly guys weren't usually her thing, but he was just a sight to behold. And then her inner history nerd kicked in. Actually, she was surprised that it had taken this long. Steve had been alive in the 20s and 30s. He'd fought in the Second World War. He had first-hand accounts of battles and army life and the original Hydra organisation. He'd been part of the catalyst for SHIELD's formation, an organisation most of the public didn't know about until recently. And then it had become a small part of the curriculum in American History, squeezed in alongside the creation of the FBI and the CIA.

Almost straight after their meeting, Steve had sent her a text thanking her for treating him 'like a real human being'. Beth didn't open it until she was sprawled on her sofa in her PJs with reruns of _Friends_ on the TV. She shot back a response: _Are you telling me you're not human and so shouldn't be treated as such? I mean, I can't treat you like a god because you're not Thor…_

She spared a glance at her rucksack that was sat innocently by the front door. In it were thirty short stories about (hopefully) different aspects of Lincoln's life that she did not want to mark this weekend. In a desperate attempt to give herself something more interesting to read instead of the seemingly endless onslaught of essays and reports. That plan clearly hadn't panned out. Just the thought of marking made Beth make her way to the fridge where an unopened bottle of white wine lay on a shelf. She unscrewed the top and poured herself a glass before returning to the sofa. For some reason, the laughter track on _Friends_ was beginning to grate her so she changed the channel. And she couldn't believe what was on.

 _Hey Steve, you can learn all about yourself on TV right now! All you've ever wanted, right?_

She couldn't help but snort when the title sequence played. So many eagles. So much red, white, and blue. When her phone rang, she put her wine on the coffee table and picked up.

"I can learn all about myself?" Steve asked.

"There's a documentary just starting on Discovery World called…" She fumbled with the TV remote for a moment. " _Captain America: American Justice_. There's nothing like a bit of patriotic propaganda on a Friday night."

"They made a documentary about me?"

"Oh, hon," Beth consoled. "There have been so many. This might be the best one I've ever seen, though." The narrator began talking about Steve's childhood in New York. "Apparently you lost your v-card in a dark alley in Queens when you were 15. I don't think they quite understand the point of doing a Captain America documentary."

"It sounds like a train wreck." Beth hummed in agreement. "I kinda wish I could watch it. I don't have a TV."

Beth took a deep breath before responding. "You could come round here and watch it?" she suggested.

"I couldn't. I don't want to impose."

"It's either that or I sit in my apartment alone, drinking wine, and watching a documentary about this guy I just met. Please come round and make me feel like less of a creeper." She reached out and paused the program. "It's paused and, here's a shocker, I'll even do a quick clean of the place. If we end up drinking, you can crash on my sofabed."

"I don't even know where you live." Beth smiled; clearly that was his last line of defense.

"4920 St Elmo Avenue. You live in Kalorama Heights, right? Get on the Metro at Dupont or Woodley Park and head on up the Red Line to Bethesda. Do you like white wine? I don't have any beer or anything in at the moment but-"

"White's fine. I've just got something I need to finish up, but I'll be with you in about an hour?"

"See you then, superhero."

She had an hour to wash pretty much all the crockery she owned, pick up the random bits of laundry scattered around the place (dirty _and_ clean), and to get her house ready for a visitor. She could do this.

But suddenly she was nervous. She'd known Steve less than a week but they already acted like Beth did with some of her oldest friends, joking about everything and constantly texting. She'd never gotten on with someone so quickly. Of course, it was all strictly platonic. They'd both made jokes about it.

 _Where would you like to go for our platonic coffee date?_

 _What time do I meet you in Starbucks for the most awesome platonic date of your life?_

But Beth didn't have time to worry about that right now. Her apartment looked like a bomb had hit it and she had an hour to sort it out.


	5. Chapter 5

Beth was just draining the water from the sink when she heard her phone ring. She dried her hands and raced over to the coffee table to answer it.

"Welcome to Friar's Fat Boy. May I take your order?"

Steve laughed nervously down the phone. "I have no idea what you're saying. Anyway, I think I'm outside your building. What's your apartment number?"

"It's just a movie reference. I'm in apartment 135. Press the button and I'll buzz you up. I'm on the ninth floor so I'd highly recommend the elevator this evening."

He hung up and a loud buzz came from the plastic phone hanging on the wall by the door. She lifted the receiver, hit the button to open the main door downstairs, and slammed the receiver back down. I was only when Steve knocked on the door that Beth looked down and realised she was still in her pyjamas: a ratty old Ohio University top and red plaid pants. It was too late to change so she opened the door. There stood Steve looking stupidly attractive in just a blue shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Welcome to my humble abode. What's in the bag?" Beth asked as she stepped aside for Steve to enter. Steve slipped off his shoes and put them neatly by the door before walking in and putting the brown paper bag on one of the wooden kitchen counters.

"I don't know what snacks you like, so I grabbed a bunch," he explained, emptying the bag.

"You didn't have to do that, Steve."

"You're having me round so I had to bring something. You already have the wine sorted so I got Gushers, chocolate pretzels, Cheetos-"

"Oh my God, gimme," Beth gasped, instinctively grabbing the family-size bag of Cheetos. As she clutched them to her chest, she looked at Steve with wide eyes. "I swear I'm not crazy."

Steve just chuckled and grabbed a bag of Gushers. Beth threw the Cheetos onto the sofa and poured Steve a glass of wine.

"I hope Sauvignon Blanc is okay?"

"More than okay."

"They really like their dramatics," Steve commented wryly as another set of explosions went off during a re-enactment. "I don't remember this much stuff blowing up."

"Welcome to America. If things aren't blowing up left, right and center then it's clearly not a warzone. Your outfit was ridiculous, though. I mean, look at you. You're Sergeant Spandex."

Steve was visibly relaxed and it warmed Beth's heart. She liked to make people feel at home, and ere he was slouching slightly on her brown sofa with a glass of wine in his hand and three packets of Gushers on his lap.

"You and Stark would get on so well it scares me. You're senses of humor are so similar."

For a split second, Beth froze. It was so surreal hearing Iron Man casually name-dropped in a conversation by someone who actually knew him. "My sense of humor is the best. Anyone would be lucky to have one like mine." It was the only response Beth could come up with and she knew it sounded a bit flat.

"Really?" Steve asked incredulously, turning to face her. "All it takes to make you speechless is mentioning one of the Avengers?"

 _Taking your shirt off would probably have the same effect_ , she thought. Instead, she actually responded by hushing Steve. "I'm trying to watch this documentary about you that's totally accurate. I never knew you knocked up someone from Ohio. It wasn't my grandmother, was it?"

"I never had sex with anyone in Ohio."

"You could've done the do with a girl in Kentucky and it doesn't change the fact that the girl was from Ohio. What was education _like_ in the 30s?"

And Beth was back to normal.

"Steve, you don't have to wash up." He was too busy filling the sink with hot soapy water to take any notice. Or he was just ignoring her, she wasn't entirely sure. He'd collected the wine glasses and the bowls they'd used to finish off the last of the Cookie Dough ice cream in the freezer and put them by the sink with Beth protesting the whole time. "I'm the one who lives here so I should be doing the cleaning."

"Don't be ridiculous," was Steve's response as he began the washing up.

Beth couldn't deny that she was enjoying the view. Him, standing there in her kitchen with his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, washing her dishes, asking her about her day and her job. It even felt good. This whole thing hadn't happened since her previous relationship and that had ended about eighteen months ago. Well, the end of the relationship was pretty crappy so Josh hadn't asked about her day since about twenty months ago. Beth told him about the kids – her favorites which of course she _didn't_ have and the troublemakers – and they talked about the American History curriculum. Honestly, she was surprised that he was so interested. Obviously he could've been faking it, but he seemed so genuine with his enthusiasm and his questions. They ended up back on the sofa talking until 12.30 at which point Beth declared that it was too late for him to travel back home to the city.

"I couldn't put you out," had been his first argument.

"I said on the phone that you could stay over. The Metro's not running so you'd have to walk back and it takes, what, an hour?"

"I'm fine walking through DC at night, Beth. I'm an Avenger and a trained soldier."

"Please. Stay here for my peace of mind. Please?" She could see Steve beginning to crack.

"I don't have any pyjamas and I don't think you want to go to the toilet in the middle of the night to find me just in boxers lying on your sofa."

 _Oh, I wouldn't mind that at all._

She bolted into her bedroom and rooted around in her closet until she found what she was looking for. She handed them to Steve with a smile on her face: an extra large college t-shirt and a large pair of plaid pyjama pants.

"University of Oregon? Yours says Ohio."

"They belonged to my ex." Beth tried to keep the sourness in her head and not in her voice. "I forgot to burn them with all his other crap that he left here."

"Fine, I'll stay the night. Just for your peace of mind."


	6. Chapter 6

Beth half-expected super humans to have super snoring but Steve was silent the whole night. Her only problem was when she woke up at 9am… and seriously needed the toilet. How long did Steve usually sleep in for? He was ex-military, so he probably woke up pretty early. But he was drinking last night… Could he even get drunk? Did the super-soldier serum affect that?

After a couple more minutes, she was bursting. She just had to go for it. She slipped out of bed and opened the door as slowly and as quietly as she could so that she could pop her head out to have a look. Steve lay on his back on the sofabed, blanket covering him from the waist down and his t-shirt had ridden up slightly during the night. Part of his stomach was on show. That ridiculously toned stomach…

Beth shook her head and tiptoed her way to the bathroom, hyperaware of every noise she made. The last thing she wanted was a grumpy, half-asleep super soldier on her couch. She winced at the volume of the flush and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Then she cringed. Her hair was all over the place and her bangs were halfway up her forehead. She hadn't managed to get all the mascara off last night – she vaguely remembered using a wet wipe and just smudging it over her face when she drowsy and slightly inebriated – and now she looked like a panda. Her left cheek was red from pressing against her arm all night because apparently that was the only position her body would find comfortable. She looked like a tired wreck. A tired, _hungry_ wreck. She dampened her Mickey Mouse flannel and tried to wipe away the panda eyes. Then she tried to flatten her bangs before creeping back into the main room in the apartment.

She tried to be quiet as she moved around the kitchen area but she must've failed.

"Morning."

She jumped out of her skin. "Holy-!"

Steve just chuckled and pulled his shirt down so that delicious piece of skin disappeared. "Jumpy?"

Beth just fixed him with a glare before opening the fridge.

 _Think about food and not about how adorable his hair looks right now_.

"Bacon sandwiches?" she offered. "Not that you deserve it after nearly making me wet myself, but I guess I should be a good hostess."

"I'm sorry for making you jump," he apologised. He almost sounded sincere. "Bacon sandwiches sound great. Great breakfast after the best night's sleep I've had in a few weeks."

"My couch is not comfortable enough to be anyone's 'best night's sleep'."

"I've mainly been sleeping at the… office."

A rare moment of quiet came over them so Beth busied herself with finding the frying pan and beginning to cook. They never spoke about Steve's work, only Beth's. In fact, there was very little she knew about Steve except for what the media offered every now and then. Asking him about it made her sound too fangirl-ish, something she didn't feel but wanted to avoid Steve thinking about her. They both knew he worked for SHIELD, and were both on the same side about Hydra. Beth knew more than enough about world history to not trust any political ideals that were supported by Hitler. Fanta, she could deal with. Hydra, no.

"Where's your bread?" Steve asked. He was closer than Beth thought; she hadn't heard him move across the apartment.

She hesitated for a moment. The man looked damn good in Josh's pyjamas; definitely better than Josh ever had. "In that cupboard. If you want butter, it's in the fridge. And the ketchup and brown sauce and whatever are in _that_ cupboard. And could you turn on the coffee machine?"

They worked side-by-side making coffee and breakfast and ate it in front of whatever Saturday morning trash they could find on TV. There was something about the whole affair that just seemed to click. They worked well together in the kitchen, never getting in each other's way and, most importantly, Steve not outright laughing at her whenever she starting singing to herself. Of course, the singing only happened once she had some coffee inside her.

"This has been fun," Steve said quietly, his face looking at the TV but his eyes glancing sideways at Beth. She looked up at him, a huge smile on her face.

"Are you kidding? This has been the best sleepover I've had in years. Next time, you should totally braid my hair." There wasn't even a hint of falseness in that sentence. She loved people playing with her hair.

"Next time?" He was looking directly at her now.

"Well, you're welcome round here whenever. Just shoot me a text before you show up to make sure I'm awake and fully functional. And none of that overly polite, 1940s 'I must be a perfect gentleman'. Mi casa es su casa, as they say."

"What are you doing Wednesday night?"

"My sister's staying Monday through Thursday. She comes to DC every couple months for work so I offer her my sofabed. Why?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to come round mine, but if you have company…"

"Come round here and meet Carolyn. I'll cook us all dinner. I don't have a dining table, but I'm sure we'll manage."

"Carolyn? Carolyn King?"

Beth nodded, eyeing Steve suspiciously. "Yes, actually. She kept her name after she married. Do you know her?"

"No. It's… it's just a pretty name."

Was he hiding-

 _Was that a pang of jealousy?_


	7. Chapter 7

Carolyn King knew what her sister needed on a Monday night. She let herself up and into the apartment with her tiny suitcase and a bag of Chinese takeout on Monday night. Beth looked up as she entered and couldn't stop the dopy grin that came across her face.

"Lemon chicken?" Carolyn nodded. "Egg fried rice?" Another nod. "…Fortune cookies?"

"Do I look like a rookie?"

Beth didn't think she'd ever moved so fast. She bolted across the room to get plates from the cupboard and when she took a bite of the chicken her face was pure bliss and Carolyn couldn't help but laugh.

It was when the food was gone and the food comas were beginning that Beth took a deep breath and said what she knew she had to. "So, I've made a new friend." Carolyn's attention was ripped from the TV and she stared at her sister like she'd grown two heads. "Hey, what's that look for? I get out."

"Uh-huh. When did you meet this 'friend'?"

"…On a field trip last week…"

"Oh, yeah, you totally get out."

Beth pushed her lightly before getting serious again. "So, um… he's-"

" _He_? You made a _he_ friend?"

"Oh my god. Yes, I made a friend who is male. And he's coming round for dinner on Wednesday so don't make any plans."

"You've only been going out a week. Bit early to introduce him to family, isn't it?"

Beth was mortified. "We're not dating." Her face must've looked like a tomato by now. "We're really, totally, _honestly_ not dating."

"But you think he's attractive." Beth threw a cushion at her face. "And you _wish_ you were dating him." Beth picked the cushion up and threw it again. "What's his name?"

"This bit you _really_ won't believe. It's, um… It's kind of Steve Rogers?"

Beth's day sucked. Like, monumentally just _sucked_. She'd had to cover Mr Hiller's lessons because he was off sick and then she discovered how far behind his classes were. All of them. She found out just before first period that, ironically, her period had started so she'd taken a bunch of paracetamol because the first day is always the _worst_ before finding out that most of her first period class hadn't done their assignments. And then she nearly left the stuff she had to mark on the Metro. What she needed was a glass of wine, to mark the pop quizzes, and curl up in front of the TV. Maybe text Steve. Maybe.

What she _didn't_ want to come home to was her apartment door slightly ajar. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled her sister's cell.

"Welcome to where the wild things are. How wild are you feeling today?" came Carolyn's teasing tone.

"Carrie, did you come by the apartment during the day?"

"I haven't been back since I left at, what, six this morning? What's going on?" Carolyn's voice was suddenly tense.

"I just got home and the door's open." She couldn't tear her eyes away from the door.

 _Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm_.

"Your apartment door?"

"That'd be the one. Just wanted to check you hadn't been here before I called the cops."

"Don't call the cops." Beth could hear her moving around and then calling to someone, "I need to go. It's a family emergency. Yes, sir." Then she was back talking to Beth, but it sounded like she was running. "Okay, I need you to go down to the lobby and then call Steve. You need to calmly tell him that unfortunately dinner is cancelled tomorrow because your sister has a work emergency and it's going to go on for a few days."

 _Everything's fine. Nothing to worry about._

"Why can't I tell him that someone broke-"

" _Please_ , Bethy. I'm running for the Metro now so I'll be with in thirty minutes or so."

"Why can't I call the cops?"

"I'll explain tonight. Just call Steve and I'll see you soon." The line went dead.

Beth's mind was racing a mile a minute. She couldn't look away from the door so she walked backward to the elevator and fumbled for the down button. It seemed to take an age for it to arrive. When she was in and the doors were shut, she found Steve in her contacts and waited for him to pick up. He didn't until she was in the lobby.

 _Don't panic. Stay calm._

"Beth!" He sounded so cheerful. How could he sound so happy when Beth's world was crashing around her? "I was just thinking about you." _I need you to hug me_. "Did you want me to bring anything tomorrow evening?"

Beth took a deep breath. "I'm sorry but I have to cancel tomorrow." She sounded a lot more confident than she felt. Her voice stayed completely level. "It's my sister. She, uh… She has a work emergency that's… It's going to go on for a few days?" Steve was silent. "I'm really sorry-"

"Where are you right now? Are you at home?" He sounded suspicious. Why did he sound suspicious? Why did everyone sound suspicious?

"I'm in the lobby of my building." _Don't tell him about the break-in_. "I'm locked out of my apartment."

There was a moment of fumbling before Steve responded, "Stay where you are. I'll come and keep you company."

The next hour was agonising. Beth kept trying to distract herself. She tried to mark the pop quizzes on the battered sofa by the bottom of the stairs but gave up after the third one. She paced, she tried to listen to some music. And then her attention turned to what was _about_ to happen. This wasn't how she wanted her sister and her new friend to meet. They were supposed to have dinner and Steve was going to realise that crazy ran in the family but crazy could also be in a fulfilling long-term relationship- Where did that come from? She knew she was developing a small crush on Steve, but when did it get to the I-totally-want-something-more level?

Her thoughts were interrupted when the man in question appearing in front of her, concern painted all over his face. Beth looked up at him, trying so, _so_ hard to pull it all together.

"Shall we go for a coffee or are you waiting for your super?"

And that was when her sister showed up. Carolyn didn't notice Steve had first; she had tunnel vision on her little sister. She launched herself at Beth and enveloped her in the biggest hug either of them had ever had. _That's_ when she noticed the Captain over her sister's shoulder. They separated and she eyed up the six foot wall of muscle. Beth opened her mouth to introduce them, but apparently that wasn't needed.

"Captain Rogers."

"Agent King."

That was the kick start Beth needed. She could feel some normality returning to her, the initial shock of the break-in receding a little. She looked between the two of them.

"I'm sorry, can you run that one by me again?"


	8. Chapter 8

"So you work for SHIELD." Beth's head was a mess.

"Technically, I'm with the CIA. I liaise with SHIELD," Carolyn whispered.

"Does the government even recognise SHIELD as a thing right now? Weren't they accused of, I don't know, _terrorism_?"

"Technically, my job doesn't exist."

"Yeah, a lot of this seems pretty damn _technical_ ," Beth hissed. "So now that we've discovered how you two know each other – which we are _so coming back to_ later – why don't we move the discussion to why my apartment was broken into?"

Steve had gone upstairs to check the damage. Beth didn't know what he thought he'd find, but she saw the outline of a gun poking out of his pants. That was scary enough.

"We don't know."

"Is that your official government answer or the truth? Because from where I'm standing, there's a pretty strong theory showing. I met the oh-so-wonderful Captain America last week – exactly seven days ago, in fact – and _this_ week I have a CIA-SHIELD agent living under my roof. And now, suddenly, my apartment gets broken into. Exactly how much of that seems like a coincidence to you?"

Carolyn opened her mouth to retort, but the elevator chimed and a resident walked out. He smiled at the sisters before leaving the building.

"Who was that?" Carolyn asked, immediately on guard.

"Charlie Hanson. He lives in the apartment above mine. I went to college with his ex so we used to hang out a bit. Let's not change the subject, here."

" _Later_."

This wasn't how Beth had imagined she'd see Steve's apartment. She thought she'd go over for a movie night or something, not sitting on his couch in a pair of his boxers and an old t-shirt barely holding herself together. It was so basic, so _Steve_. Everything was a neutral tone and it was all so tidy. She almost snorted when she saw the cushion in the shape of his head with little white felt wings sticking out of his helmet. She hugged it to her chest as she heard Steve and Carolyn arguing in the bedroom. They weren't so good at the whole whispering thing.

"We have to tell her," Carolyn was hissing. "Obviously we can't tell her _everything_ , but she needs something."

"What are we supposed to say without saying too much? We need to wait for an order-"

"An order? You think we're going to get an order on this? My little sister is sitting on your couch and you want to wait for a goddamn _order_?"

"What else are we supposed to do, King?"

"We can tell her what we think is going on and we can come up with an action plan because right now she's lost and she needs something to work towards."

Carolyn re-emerged a few moments later, a grim look on her face as she stood in front of Beth. Steve appeared behind her, mumbled something about coffee, and made his way to the kitchen area.

"Right now we don't know any hard facts so we can only tell you what we think is going on which is no help to anyone. What we _need_ to do is come up with a plan."

Beth met her gaze. "What do you think is going on?"

"Would you feel comfortable going back to your apartment once SHIELD's gone through it for evidence and prints and tried to put it back together for you?"

" _What do you think is going on_?"

"I know how your mind works, Beth. If I tell you what we think is happening, you'll treat it as gospel truth because you need something to hold on to. We are _not_ going down that road. Would you feel comfortable moving back into your apartment?"

Beth thought about it. It had been her home for the last two years and she wanted so badly to be on her own couch, drinking her own wine, and doing that goddamned marking. But now someone had broken into it and she didn't know why. And now people she didn't know were going to go into said apartment and look at everything. Everything she owned was on display for them, and then they were going to try and tidy it up.

No, she probably couldn't go back. So she shook her head as her eyes started to well up.

"Hey, hey, it's okay!" Carolyn surged forward and took Beth in her arms. "It's going to be okay. We're going to figure this out."

"How? I'm terrified to go back into my apartment and I have to go to work tomorrow so that I can pay the bills and the rent for somewhere that I don't want to be. I can't shower, or get clothes, or do anything to contaminate a freaking crime scene that's actually my _home_."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Tomorrow morning, you're going to phone in sick. You're in no emotional state to teach, anyway."

"I have nowhere to stay, though. And neither do you."

"Stay here." Carolyn and Beth pulled apart from each other to look at Steve. "You guys take my bed and I'll take the couch." Beth started to protest but Steve fixed her with a stare that she'd never seen before. It was like forceful concern and it nearly overwhelmed her. "You're staying here, at least for tonight. I'll get onto SHIELD tomorrow about finding you a new apartment."


	9. Chapter 9

_This isn't my apartment_.

It was the smell that gave it away first; the sheets were familiarly musky and the scent of bacon wafted in under the door. And the bed. Beth's mattress seemed like a bed of nails compared to this cloud. When she realised where she was, her eyes shot open.

 _Holy crap, I'm in Captain America's bed_.

Everything screamed Steve. There were shelves with well-read copies of F. Scott Fitzgerald and J. D. Salinger among others and a little Captain America figurine sat on top of the chest of drawers next to a larger Iron Man action figure. The gray curtains were shut but from the light around them it was well into the day. And she was still hugging the goddamn cushion of his face. She held onto it as she padded into the main area of the apartment, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely.

"Morning, sleeping beauty."

"Oh, you're hilarious," Beth deadpanned. "Tell me you have coffee."

Steve handed her a mug. She took one sip before her eyes widened in horror. "What time is it? Eleven? Oh my god, I've missed half the schoolday-"

"Relax." Steve's hands were warm on her shoulders as he forced her to sit on the couch. "Agent- Carolyn phoned the school before she left for work and got you a couple days off for a family emergency."

"Okay, seriously, why can't I tell people that someone broke into my apartment?" The secrets were already getting old.

"Someone will be here soon to talk to you about that. It also looks like they might be able to get a new apartment for you but it'll take a week or so to set up. Obviously, you can stay here as long as you need to."

"I'm not going to impose on your personal space, Steve. I'll go back to my place as long as it's temporary."

Steve looked unsure but Beth was done with the conversation. She tucked her legs under her and cradled her mug as Steve turned the TV on. They needed some sort of noise and Beth's attention was consumed by _Friends_. A few minutes later, a bacon sandwich appeared in front of her and she practically inhaled it. Steve's eyes were on her, a smile playing on his face. She hadn't seen him smile properly in days.

"What?" she asked. "Can't a girl be hungry in the morning?"

"No, it's just…" He seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say. "You're so unapologetically _you_. It's… it's good."

"Well why should I apologise for who I am?"

There was something different in his eyes, now. They seemed softer, more gentle than before. They were hope and freedom and a little bit of life. And they were getting closer.

"Tell me to stop," Steve whispered. He sounded like he was begging.

"I don't think I want you to."

For a moment, there was no fear. There was no confusion or mystery; just Beth and Steve. For a moment, the world tasted like bacon and coffee and ketchup and Beth ached for the moment to never end.

There was a sharp knock on the door and they sprang apart. Steve was up like a bolt, unlocking his apartment door and letting in a suit whilst Beth instinctively reached for her half-empty coffee cup. She could feel her face burning up and most of her energy went into _not_ looking at Steve.

"Good morning, Miss King." The suit was a middle-aged balding man standing at least a head shorter than Steve. The suit itself was slightly creased and a little on the shiny side. "I'm Agent Fisher."

He offered a hand and, for a fleeting moment, Beth considered leaving it. She just wanted to get this done; but manners won out in the end.

"I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but that would mean I wanted my home to be violated."

"I understand." Agent Fisher had brought a suitcase with him and he rested it on the coffee table. Steve turned off the TV. "We have finished searching your apartment and should finish cleaning at around 2pm. After that point, you are invited to return. Unfortunately, we've taken a few items of clothing and a couple small appliances in as evidence to get prints and DNA." He opened his suitcase and took out a piece of paper. "This is the full inventory of what we've taken for evidence, along with any broken items that have been removed. We wish to make this transition as smooth as possible for you."

Beth put her mug down and quickly scanned the list. Some shirts, a pair of shorts…

"Oh, hell no." Steve and Agent Fisher's heads snapped up and looked at her in concern. "You took my coffee maker."

"Of course, I apologise on behalf of SHIELD for any inconvenience caused." Damn right it was inconvenient. She was pretty sure they'd stopped selling that model. "Now, I hear you've been asking why you can't tell anyone about the break-in? I'm going to need you to sign this confidentiality agreement." He reached back into his briefcase. "It outlines that whatever you are told about SHIELD happenings is told in the strictest confidence. If there is any breach in the terms outlined, you will face the consequences outlined in the penultimate paragraph."

Pen and paper were thrust at her. After a quick flick through the agreement, she signed and dated the document.

"Okay, the basic principle of the matter is that Wilson High School is being investigated for becoming a Hydra stronghold."


	10. Chapter 10

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I wish I was," Agent Fisher said. "It would make our workload a lot lighter." Jokes weren't exactly his forte. "We are individually investigating each member of staff at Wilson High. You've come out clean. Congratulations."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. So I met Steve because he was _investigating_ me?" Both men stayed silent, but at least Steve had the gall to look down at his feet. "Were you ever going to tell me that? That seems like a pretty big piece of information."

"He wasn't allowed to. For all we knew, you were Hydra."

This was definitely a conversation for later when Agent Insensitivity wasn't around.

"Fine. Can we return to the fact that my workplace is apparently a hotbed of hostile activity?"

"We have various ongoing investigations that seem to tie back to your high school. We have certain teachers and students under surveillance and we are quietly making our way around the entire staff and student body."

Beth was at a loss for words. _The entire staff and student body_. All those teachers she'd worked with for just over two years. All those kids she taught nearly every day. Some of them could be Hydra and that thought was terrifying. Was she technically affiliated with SHIELD now? Did that put her at more risk? Were all these supposed Hydra agents working together? Did they know each other existed?

"Now, this is where things get a little tricky." Agent Fisher looked nervous. For once, a crack in his professional shell. "Miss King, we'd like to recruit you."

"I'm sorry?" Surely Beth had misheard. Steve's head whipped up. Apparently he hadn't expected this, either.

"You work at Wilson and we believe you would be an asset to our team. If we send someone in, it looks suspicious. You already work there."

"I don't want to be an agent."

"You wouldn't be an agent. An agent is traceable. You would just be our eyes on the inside. Full training would be given Friday through Sunday ready for you to start back at work on Monday." Beth was ready to say no. She couldn't add this on top of everything else. "It also comes with a heavily discounted apartment and a generous pay package."

A new apartment. _A new apartment_. She didn't know if she'd be able to sleep in hers now.

"Can I think it over?"

"Of course. If you decide that this is an option you would like to pursue, Captain Rogers will bring you to the training ground for 9am _sharp_ Friday morning. We will take absence or tardiness to mean you are not interested and we do hope that this isn't the case."

Agent Fisher let himself out. Beth took a moment to compose herself before fixing Steve with a hard glare.

"You were investigating me?" Her voice was solid and Steve seemed as though he was struggling to meet her eyes.

"You have to understand-"

"That you couldn't tell me? Yeah, I got that. But I thought maybe we'd progressed past that when we became friends."

"Is this because we kissed?"

"Is this- _Seriously_?"

Beth stormed into Steve's room and shut the door.

"…Beth?" She paced around his room but to Steve's credit he didn't try to enter the room. "Are you okay?"

"I want to go home but I don't have any clothes and I can't go on the Metro like this." All of a sudden she felt so small. She had no control over anything that was going on in her life and it just _sucked_. Everything was falling on her, one by one. Change was one thing, but this was a whole other kettle of fish.

"You can't go home until we get the all clear." He sounded so sorry and a small chip appeared in Beth's anger. "Please come out here."

His voice sounded so small and that was all it took for Beth to lean against the door and slide down until she was sitting on the floor. She stroked the carpet with her left hand; it was so soft and it was the same color as a koala toy she'd had as a child.

"I don't think I can work for SHIELD," she said quietly. She didn't know if she wanted Steve to hear her, but it felt good to say the words out loud.

"So don't."

"They're offering me a discounted apartment, Steve. On condition that I work for them."

"We can find you another apartment. If you don't want to work for SHIELD-"

"Hydra's all over my school." Suddenly she couldn't breathe. "Some of the kids…" She couldn't get enough air into her lungs.

"Beth, you need to open the door."

The last thing she saw in focus was the cushion of Steve's face before the blackness found her.


	11. Chapter 11

Beth came to on Steve's couch as Steve was clattering around the kitchen area. She sat up slowly, her head pounding if she moved too fast. From where she was, Steve looked… good? She couldn't help but appreciate how his t-shirt practically hugged his torso and he just looked so damn domestic.

 _Bad Beth. You can't think this crap while sitting on his couch._

"You passed out." Steve stated it like a fact, pulling Beth from her thoughts; there was no emotion there at all. "You had a panic attack and then you passed out so I put you on the couch."

"Thanks," Beth responded in a small voice. "Could I get a glass of water?"

"It's on the table in front of you." So it was. She downed the whole thing as Steve came to sit next to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I passed out on your bedroom floor. I don't normally do that. I- I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for. It's been a stressful couple of days. And I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Can we talk about that later?" The kiss was a conversation Beth _really_ didn't want to have. Ever.

"No, because it's the one thing we can sort out right now." He sounded so forceful and Beth tried not to let her mind wander, really she did.

 _Where the hell is this coming from, King? What, one kiss and you think about him in bed? Seriously?_

"I was out of line kissing you."

"Steve, you told me to stop you and I didn't. I'm as much to blame as you are."

Steve gulped. "Why… Why didn't you stop me?"

That was the question Beth wanted to avoid. Why hadn't she told Steve to stop? Because there was a small crush blossoming, but that's not exactly something you can tell someone. Especially if they're Captain freaking America. Instead, she settled for a simple, "I don't know." She knew Steve didn't believe her; the look on his face said it all.

"We need to get this cleared up, Beth. One less mess."

"No, _you_ need to get it cleared up. I'm perfectly aware of the fact that we kissed and that it'll probably never happen again."

 _Please drop it, Steve._

"Probably? That doesn't sound very definitive."

"Who am I to say what'll happen in the future?"

"Beth-"

"No. I'm serious when I say that it's just you who needs to sort this out. My coping mechanism is to push problems like this so far down inside me that it's almost as if the problem's gone away. Right now, I can't deal with this. My home has been violated, I've been asked to join a secret organisation that hasn't had the greatest reputation lately, and I found out that half the people I know at the school are probably part of Hydra and will want to kill me if they find out I'm on SHIELD's side. Enough about one goddamn kiss, Steve. Sure, it'll be 'one less mess' when we've sorted it, but I literally can't cope with sorting it out right now."

Steve lowered his head and muttered his apologies. He hadn't realised how wound up Beth was and here he was, pushing for an answer. He was surprised when he felt Beth's warm hand in his.

"I didn't mean to snap." Her voice was softer than before. "I just… There's so much going on that I need to sort it out in my head. But I swear, the moment I'm ready to hash out the whole kiss thing, you'll be the first to know. For now, can we just watch some trashy TV until I can go back to my apartment?"

The elevator seemed to take a year to reach her floor. Steve stood next to her, careful not to touch her but just wanting to wrap her up in a hug.

 _You can do this._

 _You can do this._

 _You can so do this._

The elevator doors opened and there stood Carolyn, eyes fixed on her cell as she tapped away on it.

"Agent King."

Carolyn's eyes snapped up and she slipped her cell back into her purse. "Captain Rogers. Beth."

"What does it look like?"

That was all Beth had been thinking about since they had left Steve's. Would it look exactly the same? Would the family portrait next to the closet still be slightly crooked? Would her books be in the right order?

"It's…" Carolyn seemed to be struggling. "It's tidy." She sighed. "You want my honest opinion? It looks like your place, Beth, but it just doesn't feel like it is anymore. At least to me."

This was the one time that Beth wanted her sister to be wrong. She wanted it so badly, but Carolyn was always right. Except for the gaping hole where the coffee maker should have been on the counter, everything looked normal. The books were in the right order, the picture was crooked (Beth later found out that Carolyn had done that). It just felt… wrong. Her personal space had been violated. In a fit of panic, she grabbed Steve's hand and squeezed it tightly. In response, he pulled her close.

"I can't live here any more, Steve."

"I know."

"I need a new apartment."

"I know."

"But I can't work for SHIELD."

"I know."


	12. Chapter 12

When Friday morning came, Beth was lying in Steve's bed. After an argument the night before, which Beth could've sworn she was winning, Steve had taken the couch. She'd spent most of the night staring at the red numbers on Steve's clock.

1am…

2am…

3am…

At 7am she heard Steve moving around the apartment. She wanted so badly to get up and talk to him, but she knew what the topic of conversation would be. He'd said the night before that they'd have to leave at 8 to get there on time if she decided to go through with it.

With working for SHIELD.

The thought of it sent her into a tailspin every time. Work with SHIELD and get a new apartment. Don't work with SHIELD and try to find a reasonable place to live with a very small budget and buy out the lease on the current apartment.

At 7.15 she heard the shower start and her mind immediately went back to the kiss. She hadn't allowed herself to think about it since shutting Steve down about it, but there it was, back in full force in her mind. It had been… nice? She was pretty sure it hadn't meant anything – why would it? – but she didn't know how that made her feel.

 _Ugh, why do feelings have to be a thing?_

A soft knock on the door brought her back to the present. The present where she was lying in Steve Rogers' bed.

"Come on in," she called. "It's your room."

The door opened and Steve popped his head round. "I just wanted to make sure you were awake and… _decent_ , first." He came in and sat on the edge of the double bed. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, for about ten minutes. I'm so torn up about this whole SHIELD thing."

"What's your main reason for wanting to do it?"

"I need a new apartment. I can't live in that one now that… now that someone's gone through it."

"Okay, and your main reason for _not_ wanting to team up with SHIELD?"

"I don't want to see that side of the world. I mean, I know it exists - everyone does after Loki and the whole New York thing - but I don't want to be face-to-face with it. I'm barely holding myself together as it is, Steve. When I get back to school on Monday, I have to teach my kids and I have to grade papers and tests and I have to cover Tuesday lunch detention. I want to do all of that, but I can't if I'm trying to guess who's a Hydra kid. I can't see that kind of thing in my _students_. I mean, Jack Hall is disruptive in class and he's been suspended before for bullying freshmen, but it's a whole other thing if I look at him and know that he's part of an organization that kills people."

Steve looked at Beth and for the life of her she couldn't figure out his expression. After about a minute, she'd had enough.

"Okay, does the Star-Spangled Man have a plan? Because I'm starting to feel like I'm treading water and I never learned how to swim."

"You never learned how to swim?"

"I grew up in Maine. What's the point of swimming?"

"You're not going anywhere today. Neither am I, actually. I'm calling in sick."

"Can super-soldiers even get sick?"

"They can if I say they can. We're going to have breakfast and cross off a couple movies that it's a _travesty_ that I missed when I was iced. Oh, and we're going to order take-out for lunch."

"That all sounds so great, but I need to find an apart-"

"Agent- Carolyn is trying to pull some strings. Technically, it's SHIELD's fault that your apartment was broken into-"

"We're ordering pizza for lunch. And enough fries to start another potato famine in Ireland. And I'm paying for half."


	13. Chapter 13

When Beth woke, she found herself to be extremely comfortable. In the fuzzy state of half-awake, she wished she could stay in that position forever. A comfortable pillow. A warm blanket. Background noise just quiet enough not to interfere.

 _Wait. Why is my blanket moving?_

Beth practically lunged to the other side of the couch. Or she would've if her legs hadn't gotten tangled in the blanket. She fell to the floor with a _thump!_ and a groan.

"Are you okay?"

 _How dare he have a voice like honey._

"I'm fine," she managed to squeak out. "I just… I didn't mean to fall asleep on you. I don't know, I feel like it was inappropriate."

"How is you sleeping inappropriate?"

Beth sighed. A lot of times people didn't get her logic. "You're being really hospitable and you're putting me up and letting me sleep in your bed then I come out here and just fall asleep on your couch."

"And that's a problem because…?" Beth just glared at him. "Seriously, it's fine."

"But I fell asleep _on_ you. Didn't that make you uncomfortable?"

"I'm always uncomfortable these days what with the whole sleeping for seventy years thing. Except for now. You make me feel pretty comfortable."

Beth had nothing to say. Absolutely nothing. Her mind kept drawing a complete blank.

"So apparently I _have_ to watch _Fight Club_." Beth had never been happier when someone asked her to watch a movie. "If you set it up on Netflix, I'll order the pizza?"

"Sounds great."

Three quarters of the way through the movie, Beth's phone chimed for an incoming text. She groaned as she sat up, Steve's arm falling from around her shoulders so that his hand rested on her lower back. She couldn't remember when she'd started to lean against him, but the sudden loss of contact made her feel cold as she reached for her cell on the coffee table.

 _Cliched, much?_

"Who is it?"

"Carolyn. Apparently I'm going apartment viewing tomorrow. We're looking at three and they've boxed up all my stuff ready to move in. Wait, they boxed up my stuff?"

"SHIELD likes to be… efficient." His eyes didn't move from the tv screen.

"Some efficient agent packed my panties, Steve. Do you know how weird that is?"

"What time is Carolyn picking you up?"

Beth groaned. "Eight. Saturday mornings are made for sleeping in."

Her phone chimed again. _I know it's early, but you can sleep in on Sunday in your nice new apartment._

"Is she listening in?"

"I told them that if I found microphones in my apartment, I wouldn't be so willing to cooperate."

"I think a super-secret organization would know how to install super-secret microphones. But, um… do you mind if I stay here again tonight? I've got nowhere else to go. I'll take the couch so you can have your room back and I can cook din-"

Steve finally ripped his attention away from _Fight Club_. "Of course you're staying here tonight. You can have my bed again, it's no problem." Beth opened her mouth to protest. "Hey, if you're cooking me dinner then you can take the bed. Although I might need to run and grab some groceries."

"Once we're done with the movie, I'll make a list. You can run and get them whilst I secretly use your shower."

"It's not a secret if you just told me."

"Hush and watch the film, Soldier."

"Yes, ma'am."


End file.
